


The Demons Aren't Here Anymore, There's A Blue Eyed Angel In Town And His Lips Make You Fly

by wishfulthinking



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - High School, Homophobia, In which Dean is a wild child and Cas is a preacher's boy, M/M, References to Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Temporarily Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-03
Updated: 2013-07-03
Packaged: 2017-12-17 13:35:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,049
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/868147
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wishfulthinking/pseuds/wishfulthinking
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's through pain and suffering that makes a man grow proud; let me tell you a story about the broken boy without a mother. The one who tries too much to protect his own brother, the one who tries too much to not to fall in love. The one who failed on both accounts.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Demons Aren't Here Anymore, There's A Blue Eyed Angel In Town And His Lips Make You Fly

**Author's Note:**

> I was trying to hit 10k but it's a quarter to six in the morning and I'm dead beat! 
> 
> I've never written so much in one sitting before,,,and ah,,,if you'll excuse me I'm just going to drop this off. I've never even read a Supernatural fic before, much less written one, but I hope it's good enough to enjoy.
> 
> Also my beta is fast asleep so if there are any errors please excuse them or let me know xx.

It's the creaks in the wood and the shifting of the curtains- the small noises in the night that keep Dean sleeping with one eye open. He's seven and he's scared and he doesn't know what's out there, doesn't _need_  to know what's out there. But he does anyway, with a book of fairy tales and lore tucked away on his bookshelf; the creatures sung about in his mother's nursery rhymes make him fearful of the shadows.

He tosses and turns in his bed each night, pulling the covers up over his head as a shield against what he hears but not sees. Perhaps if he closes his eyes and hides away the monsters outside won't come to get him. Or at least, this is what he tells himself when he's alone and afraid.

When that doesn't work he whispers to himself that they aren't real, never were.

The words almost become a chant in search for a calm.

Nevertheless, he's always tucking himself away. 

It's not until his dad is at his bedside, it's not until two in the morning when the lights are on and his little brother is covering his ears to block out the screams, that he lowers his guard and sits up tall. His dad puts a hand on his shoulder and rubs his back; "There's nothing to be afraid of, Dean. I'm here. It's okay."

And that's when he realizes that there's nothing he hates more than the unneeded comfort and loving caress, that there's nothing he hates more than needing to be protected because he's scared of the things that don't or shouldn't exist.

And that's when he decides that he wants to be more than a cowering kid wrapped up in tear-stained sheets.

\----

Dean isn't much older when the nightmares start to become real. It's a fatal car crash that takes his mother's life and it's a fatal hurt that takes his dad away. This means there's no more bedtime stories, there's no more soothing words. Late into the evening when Sammy is falling asleep, he sits by the front door and waits for his father to come home. He hardly ever does.

The few times that Dean is proven wrong though, he's greeted with the stench of alcohol and incoherent shouts, and he begins to wonder why he wished for his return at all.

\----

Dean is ten and Sammy is six when Sammy begins to finally understand. There's a heavy storm outside and the branches knock against the window, making horrible sounds that cause them to jump and flinch at every simple movement.

Dean holds up a flashlight as dim lighting for a book; it's a quarter til one and well past his self-assigned bedtime. He's not a fan of Harry Potter- witches and wizards were never something that he figured were good, and much less entertaining- but he reads the books anyway. There's just something about the way Harry presses on despite the odds that makes him keep going.

He keeps reading until he hears one particular loud clash of thunder and feels the bed dip besides him.

There are tears streaking Sammy's cheeks and his eyes are red but Dean knows better than to ask him if he'd been crying. He wants to be a "big boy" now and he can't be blamed so, instead, he just slides on over and pats the space besides him.

Sammy crawls into the bed comfortably, settling besides his older brother and resting his head on his shoulder. Dean shifts a bit, closing his book and clicking the flashlight off, before leaning back in a better position.

"I hate thunder."

Sammy's words break against the sound of rain hitting the roof.

"Yeah, me too."

He wraps his arms around the other, pulling him tight into his embrace. Maybe it's not ghosts or ghouls or vampires or evil wizards, but there are some things out in the real world that still scare him and his brother. And despite how he feels (emotions that he'll never admit), he'll be the one with his brother to face them.

\----

There's something about losing a parent, no matter in which way, that makes you grow up far too fast.

Dean thinks about this when he watches Sammy make his first lunch for school.

\----

He rides the bus with his brother, despite going to a different school. It's a local community so his own is only a few blocks away and he's willing to walk there everyday if that will ensure him the safety of the youngest. Which is does.

Or at least that was the case, until Sammy comes home one day with a bruised jaw and a busted lip. Dean is furious and demands to know who did this to him- who did this to his precious, baby brother- the boy he was supposed to take care of until the end. Sammy only shakes his head and turns away, insisting that is was because of a trip down a flight of stairs. After a much heated argument, Dean finally gives up and leaves him alone.

It's a repeated process a year later when he walks into the house with a broken arm and missing teeth.

\----

When he finally finds the culprit, shocked is the understatement of beyond belief.

He finds them fighting in the backyard downstairs; a punch thrown to Sammy's gut and a slap hitting hard against the other's face. His feet are moving before he manages to think for himself and he's cursing at the two of them.

"What the actual hell are you guys doing?"

He should let his brother fight his own battles, let him show his own strengths, but he couldn't take this any longer.

They break apart gasping, and notably still clutching at each other.

"Sammy, can you tell me why there's a _girl_ beating you up?", Dean shouts angrily. His mother taught him not to make fun of girls, that they're just as strong as boys can be. But his mother isn't here. Hasn't been in a long time. There's no one around to reprimand him now.

"She wasn't beating me up! We were just...we were fighting", Sammy wavers a bit, knowing how harsh his older brother can tend to be, "It was for fun though! She knows some neat tricks and I asked her to teach me a few."

He looks to the ground at that.

Dean glares, "Yeah? Well explain that to stack of medical bills I've had to scrap money up for!"

The girl snaps out of her daze, managing to cut in a, "Hey- wait a second!"

But Dean is already as furious as it is and ignores her, snapping at his brother, "Get her out of here."

He's not in the mood for anymore bullshit and he's already starting to get tired of it all. He walks away when he's sure that the girl is heading home.

\----

"Why do you always have to do that?!"

"Do what, Sammy? _Look out_ for you? Make sure you're _okay?"_

"You're not looking out for me anymore! You're standing over me and watching me like a hawk! I can't even get a paper cut without you running to my side without a bandage!"

"And is that really so bad? To have someone there for you?!"

"It is when that's all you get!"

\----

Dean drinks for the first time after another argument.

A thirteenth birthday with a can of beer couldn't be so bad.

\----

The girl with the fiesty temper and Sammy's blood on her knuckles is at his house the next day and through a hangover he's cursing her. He sits down on the couch, a cup of water in one hand and a wet rag in the other, grumbling to her about why she should be gone. She smiles and tells him that he can't order her around.

He looks at her through squinted eyes, takes in the messy brown hair and deep brown eyes, "What's your name anyway?"

"Ruby."

A few minutes later his brother comes out in a clean shirt and asks her if she wants to go.

His head is killing him and he can hardly talk without wanting to vomit, so Dean doesn't have the energy to stop them before they leave. He's left as a heap of grumpiness; Why is a nine year old boy doing with a girl anyway?"

\----

Sammy comes home much later. The sky is dark and Dean is sore, wondering how long he's been asleep.

He watches his brother walk up the stairs without even a glance in his direction.

"Sammy?", he calls out to the emptiness as he hears a door slam.

The next morning he's told not to call him Sammy anymore.

\----

A year goes by and he only sees his dad every once in a while. Every few weeks he gets a call.

Dean lets a small smile set across his face when he hears that his dad isn't drunk.

\----

They switch roles.

\----

It's the fourth of July when Dean has his first kiss.  A few friends from school invite him to a party; a rich kid lives in a house with a pool. 

The first few hours are too hot and long and he almost turns to head out before a girl with tanned brown skin and sandy blonde hair grab his wrist. He recognizes her from homeroom. 

"You're...uh, Kaitie, right?", he inclines his head and asks with a smirk.

He would be nervous about getting her name wrong but he doesn't really care to know her at all, it's not like he'd be around long enough even if he wished to. His dad had called again and told them that they were going to be heading out, a place in the west.

But it didn't look like the girl cared either.

"No, Kaitie's my best friend. I'm Abigail", she corrects him with an airless laugh added to the end, "Kaitie didn't come with me. Well, she is here, but she didn't want to come talk to you. She doesn't think you're as... _alluring_  as I do."

She bites her lips and looks him dead in the eyes as she speaks.

Dean only stares back.

"Alluring?"

His voice shows every bit of cockiness that he has, nothing like a hidden secret.

"Alluring....", she moves closer to him, reaching up to trace her fingertips against his chest, "Charming. Hot. Sexy."

He moves his head to look away- the sun is setting and the fireworks should be starting soon. He's unsure of whether he should waste the night looking at them with her.

When he looks back at her he can smell her breath and taste her scent; it's like a toxic perfume that won't let him pull away. So he pulls closer locks his lips on her's. And she tastes like she smells. Intoxicating and deadly. 

He doesn't let go until she's whispering in his ear, asking if he wants to leave and go somewhere else. He's almost happy to oblige and the two sneak out from the view of others, finding a better place to be.

Her hands are on his hips and his hands are in her shirt and they made their way into the back of her pickup truck (hardly what you would call hers, a primpy girl with a manicure, it's a Chevy borrowed from her dad). She keeps a blanket in the trunk, she tells him with a wink. They have it out in a flash and by the time that she's managed to get undressed he's rocking steady against her, moldering his body against hers. His breath comes out in pants and she's not daring to hold back any moans.

With the squeaks from the vehicle, you could hardly call it romantic,  but from the view you could see fireworks from miles away.

\----

The following weeks he sees Abigail at one of the local shops downtown.

She's talking to another guy, he's talking to another girl.

He wonders if it was her first time, too.

\----

His dad comes home with packed bags after school one afternoon, Sam is already home and carrying a box out to the car. Dean almost stops to say hello but doesn't, only heads to his room to collect his things. His hands pause over something when he gets to his bookshelf; it's an old copy of Grimm's Fairy Tales. Maybe out of nostalgia, maybe out of laziness of throwing something away, he puts it in a bag.

He never did seem to get rid of all the monsters.

\----

It's another small town, one in California, which surprises Dean because of all the states he'd expected this would be the last. It's hot and too humid for his liking but when he catches the girls clad in short shorts and tightly fit tank tops he doesn't open his mouth to complain. He asks for their numbers and scribbles them down on dirty napkins, running his tongue over his lips as he thanks them and walks away.

He only ends up calling about half of them, and only ends up in the beds of a third.

Before long he has enough contacts to fill and address book and enough "friends" to throw a party. He doesn't do the latter, though, only considering it before watching his brother flip through tv channels. They might not get along as well as they used to, and he might not be as overprotective, but he still didn't want any partying around Sam. Especially when there was nothing the kid hated more than alcohol. 

So instead he went on to other people's parties, hanging around at every invited he could get.

He doesn't miss a chance.

\----

It's a saturday night, he's had a few drinks, and there's a boy with the prettiest blue eyes he has ever seen standing across the room. He stares at him for a while, telling himself that he's merely glancing, wondering who is this person that he's never seen. Sure, there are a lot of people that he's never seen- it's a _party._ But there's something about the way that he stands uptight and tense that tells Dean he's new.

He stands on the tips of his toes, edging himself in that direction. Perhaps he should introduce himself, maybe give him a drink. He wants to say that he remembers how nervous he was at his first party, but that would be a lie (he fit right in, with his arm around a stranger in no time). Nevertheless, he can still be sympathetic and sympathetic is what he wants to be. So he makes his way towards the other with his hands in his pockets, sporting the confident and friendly look all the way. It's not until he finally stands in front of the stranger that he feels his legs become weak and his tongue tied. 

The boy looks at him, confusion etched on his face. Dean holds up a hand to stop him from saying anything.

"Hey, I'm Dean. You looked kinda out of it so I thought I'd come over here and introduce myself."

He puts on a grin as he speaks.

"I'm not...out of it. I am clearly here", the boy speaks matter-of-factly and Dean nearly rolls his eyes and tells himself to forget it before he's talking again, "But my name is Castiel. It's a pleasure to meet you."

"Castiel...", the name sounds foreign on his tongue.

"It's Latin. Cover of God, God is my cover. My parents thought it sounded Holy", Castiel rubs the back of his neck as he gives the information out.

Oh. Holy. God. Was he religious? Dean was never religious.

"Can I just call you Cas?", Dean laughs as he asks. He'd probably stick with the nickname with or without permission.

Cas shifts on his feet, looking slightly uncomfortable, but nods and gives him the okay.

The two of them stand there and chat for a bit. Several times, Dean tries to push Cas out of the corner and over to a group of girls in kitchen, but when Cas groans and refuses he lets up. He finds out that he was dragged here, more as a driver than anything else. His sister is eighteen and needs someone to give her a ride home for when she has too much to drink; Cas obliged when she asked. Dean isn't surprised at all because the more he gets to know Cas the more he's sure that he isn't an occasional partier.

It's three am when a tall redhead is stumbling over her way towards Cas. He wraps his arms around her so that she can stand up.

"Dean...this is my sister, Anna."

Dean doesn't bother to do anything because he knows that she's not sober enough to remember anything anyways.

He follows them out of the house, trailing close enough to Cas that he almost manages to trip over his trench coat (who even wears that kind of stuff to a party? Even if they are just going for their sister...) and earning himself a glare in response. He helps Cas get his sister in the car and waves goodbye as he watched him climb into the driver's seat. As he's about to pull out, Cas stops and rolls down the window.

"Are you in need of a ride?", he asks.

Dean wants to take up the offer, he really does- it's getting chilly despite the late summer heat and he can hardly drag his feet- but he declines. He's probably never going to see him again and it's better to not get too friendly. That and he doesn't want the other to see his house.

"It's only a short walk from here and I need the exercise. Thanks, though."

And that's that.

\----

He gets a job at a nearby gas station.

When he's sixteen, he wants to have enough money to buy a car.

\----

School starts in early September. Dean's dad is out of town. Everything is back to the way it was before with new settings.

\----

Dean thinks he's mistaken when he sees the familiar blue eyes and trench coat in the halls.

He's glad that he's not when they end up sharing two classes together.

He's even more glad when they end up being friends.

\----

There's a brick wall at the end of the school near the football field where smokers go to smoke and druggies go to hit a high and if you're lucky you just might find it empty; Dean leans back against it and pulls a beer out of his backpack (hell if he gets caught, hell if he doesn't). With exams and deadlines he's stressed beyond belief and he could use anything as a kickback, especially a drink.

As he takes the first swig he hears the sound of footsteps but he doesn't move to check. He knows who it is.

"You asked me to come?"

He moves now, rolling his head lazily around to find the voice's owner.

"Yeah. Good to see ya, Cas."

Cas walks closer to him, stopping when only a foot away and leaning back to place himself on the wall besides the other. He watches Dean take several sips of his drink before speaking again.

"We saw each other not even twenty minutes ago."

Dean gulps down what's left in his mouth. Cas is always one to take things so literally.

"You know what I mean", he replies as he's reaching into his backpack again with a free hand, intent on finding the other bottle he had stored in there earlier- this was going to happen one day and what better would today make it- and he pulls it out, letting the glass catch in the sunlight. He turns it in his hand several times, reading the very well known label and warning. After a moment he slumps to his side, reaching it out towards Cas, "This is for you."

Cas simply stares at it, the looks on his face as stoic as ever. He seems to catch on though, meeting Dean's hold and taking the bottle from him. Dean opens it for him with a smile.

"There's nothing better than a first time with a friend", Dean says. He's not all sure about that; all of his first times were either by himself or with strangers. Pushing those thoughts away, he lifts his beer up to clank against Cas', "Cheers."

The two take a swig together; Dean watches Cas' face eagerly as his tongue tastes the cold alcohol. He laughs at the scrunched up reaction and groan of disgust.

"This is highly disgusting," Cas spits the words out which only causes Dean to laugh even harder. Nevertheless, he takes another swig and continues to drink.

Ah, the true beauty of liquor.

When the bottles are empty and the vile is filled in their stomachs, Cas stands up straight.

"Do...you think you could try something for me since I tried something for you?", his question comes out hesitant and unsure, but he keeps his posture upright and manages to stay firm. This is important to him.

Dean doesn't miss a beat when he replies, "Yeah, what?"

"Why don't you come over one day. Meet my father."

It's something he had been thinking about for a while, something that he really wanted to happen- Dean could tell. He had seen that look on his brother's own face when Christmas came around, or nowadays, a pretty girl walked by. He gets the feeling that Cas doesn't make many friends, much less get invited to drink with them. He wonders if he's ever even been to a sleepover, ever had his own birthday party.

"Okay. Sure. Sounds fun."

They set up the date and time.

\----

Cas' house is extremely clean and his room is even cleaner. Dean notices that this must be a family of super OCDness the moment he walks in the door. Shoes are aligned neatly by the coat rack, pictures are framed on the walls without a speck of dust, and if there are any magazines and books they can only be found on a shelf. Dean tries his best to keep his things that way and obviously fails when he drops off his packed bag in the middle of Cas' room. Cas throws him a look of annoyance and he picks it back up with a small smirk, carrying it over to place somewhere else, and muttering, "neat freaks."

Cas doesn't open his mouth to make a comment.

\----

Dean is propped up on Cas' bed (Cas insisted that he take the bed, it was only the more comfortable option and he was his guest) and the words that fall from his mouth are starting to slur from drowsiness. The two boys swore to not fall asleep until the sun started to rise- and thankfully, a small gleam of slight started to make it's way through the window blinds. 

"So, do you have a crush on anyone?"

His eyes are closed, but he can conjure up Cas' facial expression at the thought of it.

"No. I don't really crush on people", he replies. Which is mostly true. Sure, Dean has had a few flings of butterflies and heartache, but they never lasted more than a couple of days at the most.

"You don't? But you're always with girls. I don't understand."

Dean puffs out a gust of air between his lips.

"That doesn't mean anything, Cas. You don't have to have a crush on a chic to be with them."

He thinks Cas has fallen asleep before another question is asked.

"What about a guy?"

The words come out so quiet he can hardly hear them.

Dean opens his eyes at this and sits up a bit, "What? No! I'm straight, dude."

Cas sits up, too, "Oh. I see."

"Why?", Dean squints his eyes.

"I was only wondering. That's all", Cas lays back down and pulls a blanket tighter around himself, "I'm getting really tired and I can see the sun. I wish to sleep now."

Dean falls asleep shortly after him, but not without his mind racing from Cas' question.

\----

Dean never did get to meet Cas' dad that weekend.

It was a while before he finally did get to.

\----

His hands are clammy and his shoulders are shaking when he walks in the two brown double doors that lead into the sanctuary. Out of all the things Cas' father could be, he just _had_ to be a preacher. And to be honest, and fair, Dean wants to leave more than anything right now. But because Cas is his friend and he had agreed that he'd meet his father and try the whole church thing out, he manages to stay. Only with Cas by his side, of course.

"You look nervous", Cas points out as they sit down on one of the pews in the back. Cas had wanted to sit in the front but Dean talked him out of it, saying that it was a miracle and by the grace of God (no pun intended) that he was even going at all.

"No shit, Sherlock-", he receives a warning glance at the curse, "I've never been to church before."

"Not even once?", Cas asks him.

"Nope. My family isn't real big on the whole Christianity thing."

This was only a partial lie, as Sam did go to services with a friend every once in a while. Not that either of them talked about it to each other. After his mom passed away, Dean threw out every Bible in the house. What kind of God existed to be so cruel- cruel enough to kill his own mother.

He's brought out of his thoughts as the service starts. Cas pulls him up out of his seat as music begins to play.

\----

He can hardly sit still throughout the whole thing.

\----

Dean meets Cas' dad, the preacher, at the end. When he's finished praying for an elderly couple he walks towards the two boys with a kind smile on his face. It makes Dean feel uneasy and he's second guessing himself before an introduction is already being made.

He forces himself to shake hands with the man.

"I've heard a lot about you, Dean", he says.

Dean raises an eyebrow towards Cas, who somehow looks vaguely embarrassed and smug at the same time.

"You're welcome to our home anytime", his father continues, "It's nice to see one of Cas' friends around."

He lets go of Dean's hand in the strong grip before excusing himself to go take care of some things.

\----

Dean is pulling off his shirt and heading to the fridge the second he gets home.

"Where have you been?", it's Sam's voice and he's asking as he follows Dean into the kitchen.

"Out."

"Out? That's a nice shirt to be out in."

Dean grabs some leftover pizza. It can't be more than a few days old.

"I went to church."

Sam's eyes perk up and Dean can tell he wants to ask a million questions, "Church? Really, Dean? I thought you hated God."

"I don't hate God", Dean stops him as he starts the microwave, "I don't hate something that probably doesn't exist."

"I think he exists", Sam pouts (Dean smiles, he hasn't seen that in a long time).

"Well, I sure don't. Not anymore. If fairy tales don't come true and the Devil doesn't come out to play, neither does he."

\----

There's two weeks of school left before Winter break which only means two things: a shit ton of exams are coming up and Dean is going to spend Christmas alone with his brother for the eleventh year in a row.

The former is the most important at the moment.

Dean and Cas are sprawled out on the floor of Cas' room, books open and laid out around them. Cas calls out History questions to a bored Dean; he's tired, oh so very tired, of school and grades and exams but he makes the effort anyway. There's nothing that he wants more than to get into a decent college and a ticket out of this town. He's willing to take the steps to that no matter what.

After a couple more questions, he huffs, "I'm starting to starve over here, Cas. Let's get some food."

"You're not starving, Dean, it would take at least a week before-", Dean picks up a book to throw which cuts Cas off promptly, "Alright, let's go get some food."

They grab a couple bags of chips and a few cans of soda then head back into the room.

"I could really take a beer right now", Dean grumbles.

"You know very well that I do not own any sort of alcohol substance. My father would never allow it."

"What about your sister?"

Cas frowns at that, "I am more than sure that she does. But she has also been kicked out several times due to her rebellious nature and it would not be wise."

"Okay, sourpuss, whatever you say."

Despite the amount of time the two spent together, Dean could never be entirely used to Cas' "lack of teenage fun" as he called it. They went to several parties together but Cas hardly drank more than one cup of beer or one glass of wine. He wouldn't even touch vodka.

He makes a mental note to talk him into it one day.

"I am so going to ace the fuck out of these exams", Dean says as he stares at one of the textbooks. Studying all day gave him more confidence than needed, "Then maybe, I'll find some hot girl to celebrate with."

He smiles to himself. That's not all that bad of an idea.

Cas rolls his eyes, "Don't get too carried away. With your looks and attitude, she might want to keep you for good."

"No girl can hold me down!", Dean exclaims as he pops open a can of soda.

"That is good, I supposed", Cas reaches for a can of his own.

"What? Are you scared I'm going to go run off with some chic again? That was only _once_."

"You did not even know her name", Cas' eyebrows furrow.

"Hey, I'm lucky I know any of the girls' names that I've banged! Besides, what's it to you?", Dean asks.

Cas just stares at him, lips pressed together in a tight line.

Discussion closed, the two get back to work after that.

\----

He isn't sure why, but Dean swears that Cas acts differently after exams.

\----

New Years Eve hits and Cas calls him asking if he wants to spend it together; Dean says he's going to a party.

Cas comes along.

\----

There's a special gleam in his eyes when Cas leans against Dean's frame; he's sleepy and he can hardly keep his eyes awake so he uses the other as a way to keep upright. Dean doesn't mind, of course. After all, what are friends for?

"Cas, come on, stay with me buddy. You gotta countdown."

"Mmmm' awake", Cas mumbles against Dean's shirt.

Dean can hear the numbers shouted through the open sliding glass door; he found outside to be more serene and quiet. Less crowded and sweaty, too.

_Ten, nine, eight, seven...._

"Six", he nudges Cas' shoulders.

_Five, four, three, two...._

"One", Cas whispers it into the night.

He must have fallen asleep right after that because he wakes up in Dean's arms later, being carried upstairs. He's barely aware of the fact that this isn't his house. This isn't his room. This isn't his bed.

No, it's much better, and it smells like Dean.

\----

Dean wonders why Cas mumbles his name in his sleep.

He's too scared to ask.

\----

Sam comes along with him when they go car shopping. He's saved up a couple of thousand dollars, enough for something cheap, and as promised he's going to get a car. It's a few days early so Sam, Cas, and him decided to go looking ahead. There's plenty of affordable things- a blue camera, a red truck- but it's a beautiful, black '67 Chevrolet Impala that catches his eye.

He gives it a long look with a sigh. It's well out of his price range.

Cas doesn't fail to notice this.

"It's a damn shame, that's the most gorgeous babe I've ever seen."

\----

The twenty-fourth comes around quickly and his dad makes it home for his birthday. Other than that it's just him, Sam, and Cas. There's cake, presents, and a few family stories to pass around the table. Dean's dad even passes him a beer with a knowing smirk.

Once everything settles down, Cas follows Dean to go sit on the couch.

He looks troubled, almost, shifting on the sofa, fists clenched on his knees.

"I...uh...I got something for you, Dean, of course", Cas begins, "Now, you're going to take this whether you like it or not. I know you really want it so..."

He pulls something out of his pocket and hands it over; it looks like a crumbled envelope. 

Dean opens it carefully, not wanting to rip it in fear that it's something delicate. After all, what could even come in an envelope?

What he finds makes his eyes wide and jaw drop.

"I-I can't take this. Man, Cas, man oh man oh man", Dean stutters. His fingers shake as he holds what's inside.

"I told you, you _have_ to. I saw the way you were eyeing that car back there. I'm not a huge car fan but I can tell it's really nice. And even if it isn't, it's what _you_ want. There's nothing I want more than for you to be happy and driving the cause of that."

Cas' hands close over Dean's own, making him tighten his grip on the envelope.

" _That's three thousand dollars, Cas_ ", Dean says incredulously.

"It is nothing", Cas smiles wide at him now, "for your happiness."

\----

Dean makes sure that Cas is there when he purchases the car.

\----

Dean doesn't know how to repay him.

Except, maybe, happiness for happiness.

\----

He realizes that's never going to happen the first time he sees his friend cry.

\----

The end of tenth grade can't come any sooner. Summer is number one of the list of "Things Dean Winchester is looking forward to", with sex coming in close second. 

"Summer love, ey?", Dean says as he's driving down the road with Cas in the passenger's seat. He insists that he takes Cas to and from school everyday, especially since Cas paid for a majority of the car (even though he'd insist either way). 

"What are you talking about?", Cas asks from besides. He's fiddling with the radio much to Dean's annoyance. The two never seem to get along music-wise.

"You know, summer, lonely busty blondes hanging on the beach, wanting a man to come up and save them. It only lasts for a couple of months, of course, and with me only a couple of days, but it's all good. That's the way it goes."

"I do not see the greatness of it, but I know you're going to enjoy it."

"Pfft, you can come too, you know. Come to the beach with me. We can go sight seeing together", Dean wiggles his eyebrows suggestively and gives Cas a look.

"I have no interest in that", is Cas' short reply.

Dean smacks his lips, "How come? I've bet you've never even kissed a girl."

"You're right. I have not."

"What? You're sixteen, dude. Time to live your life a little", Dean laughs, "...wait, are you gay?"

The car comes to a complete stop at a red light; Dean looks over at Cas' face.

"I...uh...I...I have never kissed a male, either", Cas shifts uncomfortably in his seat.

"That wasn't the question."

The light turns green, forcing Dean to look bad at the road and keep driving.

Cas doesn't speak again so Dean takes it as a yes.

It's not until he's pulling into his friend's driveway that he notices the other's dismay. Cas is biting his lip. _Hard._ And it's breaking and there's a small trail of blood flowing down and Dean almost wants to shout at him for his stupidity; _Why the hell would you be doing that to yourself?!_

For a moment he just sits there, unsure of what to do.

It's when Cas is reaching open to unlock the door and climbing out that the words come out, "Hey, man, are you okay? You look shaken up and if...if it's because of what I said earlier, I'm sorry."

He catches the other's eyes, "No. I'm fine. Really, Dean. I'm tired, that's all."

His shoulders slump as he closes the door and walks away.

\----

When Summer arrives Dean doesn't invite him to the beach.

\----

Dean visits Cas every once in a while when he doesn't have to work; Cas tells him that he's applied for his own job at the library. Sometimes Cas comes to his house, too. He likes hanging around Sam and they let each other borrow books.

One afternoon Dean finishes a nap to find Sam and Cas together on the couch, with a book in each others' laps.

It doesn't take him too long to realize that they're talking about the Bible.

Dean awkwardly shuffles in, head hung low and feet dragging on the wood floor. He plumps down on a cushion besides Cas.

Cas, knowing Dean all to well, shuts the book and looks over at Dean.

"I was wondering if you would like to go see a movie with me tonight."

Dean perks up at this; there were several movies out that he's been wanting to see and none of the girls who he had invited were available.

"Sounds good to me. What movie?", he asks.

"I don't know. I was expecting to decide that when we got there."

Dean clicks his tongue against his cheek, "Alrighty. We can go after dinner."

"Um...actually, I was wondering if you would like to accompany me for dinner, also", Cas adds timidly and Dean passes the red tint in his cheeks as an effect from the heat. His own cheeks were starting to burn, too.

"Okay, sure, but _only_ if the place has burgers."

\----

They agree on a local diner about five miles from the theatre; it's easily accessible, cheap (Cas complains as Dean says he refuses to let the other pay for him) and convenient.

As guessed, Dean orders a burger while Cas settles on pasta.

\----

Dean groans loudly and hits his fist against the wall when the movie theatre employee informs him which movies are sold out.

All but some chic-flick romance and Cas is more than amenable to this.

Dean mutters about how gay that is under his breath before he realizes it and makes a conscious effort not to lay his hand next to Cas' during the movie.

\----

There's something unknown in those bright blue eyes of Cas' on the car ride back from the movies; Dean looks at them through the review mirror and his stomach feels oddly light despite eating shortly before. It's not unpleasant, but it's not...entirely pleasant, either.

"What's on your mind?", he asks after a silent pause.

Cas glances over at him, "I was thinking about how good this night was."

"We ordered crappy food and watched a two start romantic comedy and you call this good?", Dean laughs as he drums his fingers against the steering wheel.

"Yes, because it was with you."

Dean starts to recognize what's in Cas' eyes.

\----

The decision he made when he was a young boy beats around Dean's head the following weeks. He's scared- he knows it more than anything, and he definitely won't voice it aloud- but he's scared more than he's ever been before. More than those nights when he asked his mother to leave on a light, more than those times he heard Sam cry when there was a thud under the bed, more than those times he found his father passed out in his own sickness.

He read books about demons that kidnap children. He read books about ghosts haunting and killing those who lived in old houses. He read books about vampires sneaking through the windows and draining women of their blood.

He knew how to handle any of those situations. Even if they weren't real.

But then he's read books about best friends falling in love. And that's something that he _can't_ handle.

He's absolutely _terrified_. 

Perhaps he has been avoiding Cas; he blames it on double shifts and babysitting. He's no coward though- he can't ignore him forever. But he can try.

\----

Eleventh grade is about the same as tenth. There's new women, new drama. He uses some of his saved money to buy himself a cellphone. 

The only real difference is that he doesn't hang around Cas as much. The other is hurt, he can tell, but he shrugs the guilt off as much as he can and walks away after classes. He doesn't hesitate to tell him that he's got a new girlfriend- her name is Jo and she has pretty, blonde hair and nice breasts. Cas is better if he moves on.

He doesn't.

\----

December comes around the corner and during lunch Cas seats himself next to Dean at the table. He doesn't eat with him anymore, hasn't all quarter, so it causes Dean to jump a little.

"You should come over for Christmas", he looks demanding but he voice is pleading, "My dad is starting to wonder what happened to you."

Dean opens his mouth to refuse the offer but Cas cuts him off, "Anna moved out a week ago. It's a guest room now. You can stay in there if you are not comfortable..." 

_Not comfortable with me,_ he can almost hear his friend say.

With a sigh, Dean finishes a bite of his sandwich, "I'm supposed to spend it with Sam. My dad might even come home."

Might, but probably not. And truth be told, Sam had started to ask where Cas had gone to.

"They can come too."

There's no way he's getting out of this, is he?

"Fine", he gives in begrudgingly, "But only if they say yes."

Cas lights up at this, "Great! Hey, and exams are coming up again. We did a great job last year so-"

"Can't. I've already promised Shelley I would study with her", Jo had dumped him when she saw him flirt with another girl- hey, it wasn't entirely his fault. She was coming on strong and Dean had told her no at least twice. He's with Shelley now. And even if they weren't going to get much studying done, Dean knows that being around Cas will only bring on more pain. 

He swallows his own pain as Cas' face falls once again; he leaves when people start filling up the table.

\----

He doesn't talk to Cas except to make the Christmas plans.

Sam leaps up happily to come along.

\----

Dean doesn't close his eyes when Cas' father clasps his hands together to pray over dinner.

\----

A mischievous sparkle flutters around in Cas' eyes when he tells him he needs to go take a shower.

How exactly does a preacher's boy end up like this?

\----

Dean tosses and turns in his bed until he can't take it any longer; it's two in the morning and he's left wide awake. He pulls the covers up over his head, trying to block out the world. It's not the shadows in the windows and the wind howling that are making him restless, though.

It's the bed that smells like cheap perfume and sex.

Careful not to wake up Sam, he slowly crawls out of bed. His feet make a soft pattering sound as he walks across the carpet and towards the door.

Foolish, dumb, idiotic...

Dean wasn't exactly sure he was fully aware enough to know what he's doing.

\----

Cas lets out a small yelp when he plots himself down on the corner of his bed; he awakes the other without a warning and scares him half to death.

"Do you have any idea how many guys your sister fucked in that bed?"

He doubts it's the bluntness of the question that makes Cas' mouth hang open.

Dean doesn't wait for an answer, "Move your ass over, I'm sleeping with you."

Cas scoots over as Dean settles into the covers next to him.

"I can move to the floor if you prefer....", he hushes Cas before he says anything else.

"Awh, Cas, I was starting to think you missed me. I guess I was wrong about you being happy to share a bed with me."

He doesn't see the blush in the darkness but he knows it's there. The squirming gives it away, too.

"I was starting to think you hated me", Cas whispers.

"Hate you? Nah, I could never hate you", Dean shifts his head back against the pillow; he's close enough to feel the other's breaths, close enough to hear Cas gulp.

"Then why would you not talk to me?", the tone comes out strained.

It almost makes it hard for him to form a reply.

"I didn't want to hurt you."

He feels Cas' fingers grip around his wrist through the blanket. To his horror, his stomach turns a little at this and he can feel his face heat up.

"If I could disappear....", Cas beings, "....I would have. But not right now."

Dean doesn't know what he means by that. He doesn't want to.

\----

He wakes up with Cas' arms around him. It's a struggle to get them untangled.

\----

He starts to hang out with Cas again and wonders why he felt that he had to stop in the first place.

\----

Shelley dumps him when he tells her that he can't come over because he has plans with someone else.

When she asks who and he tells her, the phone is hung up, leaving the word 'faggot' hanging in the air.

\----

It's on his seventeenth birthday that Dean Winchester comes to the conclusion, that maybe, just _maybe_ , he isn't entirely straight. Or maybe he was never straight at all. 

Cas sits next to him on his bed, fingers clutching the fabric of Dean's shirt. He can't bring himself to pry the fingers off, he doesn't really want to. So he just lets the other play with the cloth in silence. 

After a while, he lets go to sit up and Dean finds himself being stared down.

"What's up?", he asks after a tense moment.

"You have really beautiful eyes", Cas must realize what's wrong with what he says because he starts to backtrack before a second can pass, "I-I mean...they're a nice shape and color and uh, yeah."

Dean cocks his head up, a full view of narcissism displayed on his shoulder, "You think so?"

"Yeah...", Cas lifts his hand, stopping it right in front of Dean's face. He takes a deep breath before reaching out to caress it.

He gets the feeling again- the fright. He can feel his chest tighten up and anxiety overcome him. 

_No, no, no, no..._

Cas is leaning in and before he gets too close Dean breathes out, "I'm no good for you."

"I don't mind."

And he looks into those piercing blue eyes- the ones he saw on that weekend night, the ones that drew him in in like a magnet- and they flutter closed before he feels a pair of soft lips against his. It's tender and sweet and Dean can feel that Cas has no idea what he's doing so he takes the lead; he moves his mouth slowly, not wanting to make things deep and swallow him whole, because it feels like he's being pulled under- it feels like he's drowning in a sea of comfort and he doesn't want to swim back up.

He needs his air, though, and he pulls back after what seems like forever.

"I was informed that you are straight about a year ago."

Dean almost wants to smack him. He wants to smack him and kiss him again and-

"Shut up, Castiel."

Cas almost looks hurt before he tilts his head to the side and leans down again, "Kiss me before I change my mind."

Maybe...just _maybe_...not entirely straight at all.

\----

The next morning when they've both sat down and their mouths are full of pancakes and bacon, Sam asks why they both looks so happy.

\----

He goes to church again on Easter at Cas' request. The sermon is twice as long, and twice as boring to Dean, but he spends the time staring at the other; his hands rests on his knees, itching to grab onto Cas'. He may want to see the look on the preacher's face, but he does all that he can to make sure that that doesn't happen.

Afterwards Cas invited him for lunch and does take Cas' hands in his own, interlacing their fingers together.

The glare from his dad is priceless; he's a man with two children that are bound to go to hell.

\----

"You don't drink nearly as much as you used to", Cas tells him as they're laying on his bed.

"I don't need to", Dean sports a cheeky grin, "I've got you now."

\----

The word boyfriend rolls around his head when he kisses Cas in an empty movie theatre and he wonders if that's the right term to use.

\----

He ends up telling Sam first, when they're eating Chinese together as they watch tv, an old rerun of The Jetsons. It's an awkward topic to breach but Dean spent hours going over it in his head and he's got to man up he wants to get this off of his chest.

"Cas and I are gay lovers now."

The words stumble out in a quick mess, not at all how they were planned out- and _gay lovers?_  What the hell?

"Yeah, I know", Sam gives him a smug look and wiggles his chopsticks at Dean, "It's obvious."

Dean groans, "What? _How?"_

"Remember when that girl Ruby and I used to fight a lot?"

"Yeah", he remembers wanting to kick her out of the house every time he saw her.

"I liked her", Dean rolls his eyes and Sam glares, "I liked her and we fought. You and Cas fought, too."

"Every set of best friends fight every once in a while."

"Yeah, but it's different. He gives you _the look_ too."

Dean looks back at the tv, watching the cartoon characters moved through distant eyes. He knows what look Sam is talking about.

\----

It's a fact that lack of sex makes Dean irritable and ever since being with Cas he's had none of it. The mere fact almost drives him insane. So when he's kissing Cas in the backseat of his Impala you can hardly expect Dean to _not_ stick his hand on your groin.

Cas gasps at the contact and arches his back, moving to try to access more friction.

"I...I don't...think this is the most appropriate place", Cas tries his best to form words (which is pretty hard when someone has their mouth on his neck), "for this... _activity."_

Dean groans, a complain already forming, but he's sitting up nevertheless, "Ugh, come on Cas, it's been nearly five months."

He ignores Cas' blush from what he's implying because hell, he really wants him. And he wants him _bad._

"I was merely stating that the backseat of the car we bought isn't the best place for my...uh, first time."

Cas looks up into Dean's face and he's already giving in as he always does; he slides off of him and into the other seat. Cas it right he knows it. His first time wasn't the best in a car, then again it surely wasn't the worst- but Cas was sentimental and wanted it to be somewhere special. He almost felt bad for not wanting that, too.

"Okay, hotshot, where then?", he climbs into the driver's seat with his belt still undone.

Cas doesn't see the point of moving, so he stays right where he is, "There's a park about a mile from here."

He almost questions Cas' choice of place (a park, _really?_ ) but doesn't dare to ruin it all. He pulls out of the parkling lot and follows Cas' quiet directions without speaking another word. 

It's a small park on a hill with a set of swings and a slide and in broad daylight Dean is sure that kids fight to take their turns. Cas smiled softly as he watches where Dean's eyes view, "I used to go on that swing nearly every afternoon. I liked the feeling of being high up in the clouds."

"You wanted to fly?", Dean asks looking back at Cas, something akin to longing on his features.

"I wanted to do much more than fly", Cas sits and waits for him to catch up on his spot on the hill, "I had wished to live up there."

Dean joins him, sitting down on the grass, "Kinda like an angel?"

"Something of the sort."

If it were anyone else, Dean would snort- but it's Cas, _his_ Cas, so he simply reaches up to take his face in his hands, "You're as good looking as one."

And Dean looks at him, really, truly looks at him and he's _beautiful._ So much more than he has ever realized before.

"Are you sure about this?", he leans over and whispers in Cas' ear, causing him to shiver. 

Cas only nods, already moving forward to capture the other's lips with his; it's a kiss that starts out slow but picks up gradually, Dean controlling every bit of its pace. He nips on Cas' bottom lip, asking for access and causing the other to gasp quietly. Cas parts his lips and Dean wastes no time to run his tongue against them. He can feel Cas start to squirm under his grip and he moves his hands elsewhere, one of his waist in the other in his hair.

He relishes in kissing before attending to other needs; it's not until Cas is impatiently pulling at the his shirt that Dean moves his body so that he can take it off. He doesn't hide a big grin when Cas takes a moment to stare at his chest, "Look all you want. I'm the grand prize."

Cas mumbles something about arrogance and inclines his head for another kiss.

Dean brings up his hands to roam over Cas' body, carefully making their way under her shirt. He runs a thumb over the other's nipples, earning himself a groan of arousal. Dean keeps going, pinching them between his fingers, "Take off your shirt."

The shirt is off in a fluid motion and Dean dips his head down, taking one of the nipples in his mouth. He runs his tongue along it, trying his best to not scrape them with his teeth. When he's felt that he's had enough he moves down lower, hands resting at waistline of Cas' pants. 

He looks up for permission and Cas nods.

The belt falls to the ground with a light thud; Cas kicks off his pants and shoes. 

"We're going to be covered in bug bites later, you know", Dean grumbled.

Cas huffs, shifting himself so pressed up against Dean, "That's not of importance right now. These pants need to come off."

"Tch, so touchy when needy", Dean teases but he's already shrugging out of the rest of his clothes.

He's caught off guard when he feels a hand pressing against him, "I have always wanted to do this under the stars."

Dean reaches up and yanks the other down by the neck, pulling by the hair.

_"Such a romantic."_

It's hardly a complaint.

\----

Dean frowns as he itches the bug bites.

Cas smiles.

\----

"I love you."

His heart is racing a mile a minute.

"I love you, too."

_I love you, I love you, I fucking love you._

_\----_

How long can he say in heaven's arms?

\----

He wonders what happened to the monsters, the ones that hid under his bed. He wonders about the demons that used to plague his dreams. He cried himself to sleep until the age of eight, he cried and cried and cried until he couldnt' cry anymore; he didn't stop crying until his mother died and there was no one to go to. 

But now there's someone to go to- and he is being held.

Dean Winchester is now eighteen years old. Ten years later, he's an adult who used to swear to needing no one, a man by the word of "sucking things up".

He doesn't feel that way anymore, when there's someone with arms around him and lips pressed at the temple like the barrel of a gun.

Despite it all- he feels safe, he feels comforted.

"I'm sorry about your father, Dean."

It doesn't hurt so bad.

\----

He wants to shout when he watches a girl take away his brother; a filthy whore in a cheap miniskirt. 

"Sammy, why can't you make better choices in women?"

"You're calling me Sammy again."

It's Sam's own way to ease the pain.

\----

He's failed at protecting him, again.

But this time Cas is there, telling him that it's okay.

In the end they're the two that matter.

\----

When he graduates he gives half his savings to Sam.

He once heard that the youngest has better dreams anyway.

\----

Dean leans over Cas' dining room table, unfolding a map against the surface.

"I'm thinking about Minnesota", he says, more to himself than anyone else.

"Minnesota? I was hoping for something more...up north", Cas is behind him, wrapping his arms around the other's frame.

"Like what?", Dean snorts, "Canada?"

"Canada wouldn't be so bad."

He turns around, still locked in an embrace, "You really want to move to Canada?"

"It's only a suggestion. I'm good with wherever you wish to move to."

Dean kisses him soundly, "Of course."

\----

They end up moving to Ontario.

\----

With Dean's history, he isn't much of a committed man. This doesn't stop Cas from asking him to stay forever.

And this doesn't stop Dean from saying always.

\----

He wakes up to the smell of coffee and sight up blue eyes every morning and he couldn't be happier. Cas is lazy in the morning; he wraps himself in white sheets and burries his head deep into the mattress. It takes more than a simple kiss to get him out of bed.

It's all routine from there; they both go to work and make each other meals.

On days that Dean gets to come home early, he cleans the house and sets the table, mumbling about being a "stay at home trophy wife".

He sort of likes being a trophy wife.

\----

It's the tapping of footsteps on the floor and the breeze that moves the curtains- the small noises in the day that keep Dean living at ease. He's thirty one and he's happy and he knows what's really out there, he's glad he knows what's out there. 

His fingers ghost over a book of fairy tales and lore, taking in the strange shapes and frightening images, before dumping it in the trash.

He doesn't need it anymore.

He makes his way into the living room, a nice cold beer in hand. Every once in a while he divulges in the pleasantry. 

Greeted by Cas' familiar smile, he sits next to him comfortably, leaning against his frame and bringing the drink to his lips. 

"I love you."

There's a new chant, one that brings him more calm than the previous one could ever bring before.

"I love you too. Forever and always."

It isn't until he's older and much more mature, isn't until he grows up enough to realize that death happens and ache grows with it, that he realizes that there's nothing he loves more than comfort and a loving caress, that there's nothing he loves more than being held in the protection of what he knows is real.

And that's when he knows that he's come a long way from the cowering kid wrapped up in tear-stained sheets.


End file.
